A leave of absence
by LovelyLivy
Summary: She thinks that maybe this is what he feels like. Maybe he is hurting too.


**So, this is set in the three months that Kate and Castle were on the fritz. It came to me because I was prompted by an amazing individual who is obsessed with Castle. Therefore, I helped a sister out, and provided her with some Castle. Love you Alexandra!**

**-Alivia**

**Disclaimed.**

* * *

><p>It's been a month and a half, and she can still hear his voice, a constant commentary. She'd thought she was going crazy because of the drugs, because of the pain medication, but she's realizing maybe that's not it.<p>

Maybe crazy people are just heartbroken.

Maybe Castle doesn't deserve any of this. Maybe she should tell him she remembers.

And maybe, just maybe, she needs to go on a little bit of a vacation.

They cleared her for travel a week ago, anyway. She decides this in the middle of the night, lying in bed, alone, dark half moons beneath her bloodshot eyes. She is alone because Josh has been gone three days.

She doesn't get any sleep that night, and she is on the road by the time the New York City skyline is gorgeous and meaningless.

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><p>The town is small, and the names escapes her. She doesn't recall picking the place, but she remembers driving. Kate stops at a small diner to the on the meager strip of businesses lining the main road. The waitress has a nice smile, but she cannot find it within her to say much back.<p>

She wants isolation. She wants solidity.

"There's a motel just down the road, sweetie," the woman says when she tips her, and there's a look in this stranger's eye that tells Kate she cares, that she means no harm. She nods, and exits swiftly. Her scar hurts.

Maybe she'll visit this diner tomorrow too.

* * *

><p><em>His eyes smolder. She feels his hand, so rough, and so gentle, stroke the skin of her hip, and she is so close to perfection, and so far from it. His lips are on her own, and she tastes him on her tongue. Sweet ecstasy.<em>

_And maybe this is wrong, but the heat settles deep within her soul, and she can't help it- she can't stop._

"_God. God, Rick."_

_Her muttered curses are loud at her ear, and the mattress squeaks, white noise._

"_I love you, Kate."_

She yells into the silence of the room, and takes shuddering breathes. The doctors said she needed to keep her heart rate down- her stress to a minimum.

The pillows smell like a bar. They probably have bed bugs.

Kate doesn't care.

She rests her eyelids, finally, but she does not fall asleep again. Maybe, if she's honest with herself, she'd say she misses him. But she is hardly ever honest. And one doesn't not simply miss Richard Castle.

* * *

><p>Kate ventures into town the next days. Well, down the street. There is socializing involved, if only a little, so she considers it a trip. She doesn't get nearly as tired when she walks for long distances anymore.<p>

There is a boutique, a furniture store, a grocery center, and a bookstore. She doesn't go near the bookstore, at first. The boutique is nice. She doesn't try on any clothes, but divulges herself in at least one pair of shoes.

She doesn't like looking at her body in floor length mirrors anymore.

She doesn't go near the bookstore at first, but then something changes her mind. A thought.

_A guy like Rick Castle isn't going to make me avoid something like a damn store. Grow some balls Beckett_.

Bells sound as she enters the establishment. She smells the musk of an old novel, and sighs. She'd forgotten how much she likes to read, really read.

There hadn't been much time for free time once Castle had waltzed into her life.

"Ma'am, can I help you?"

She shakes her head at the sweet looking elderly man, and her eyes dart quickly to the display behind the counter.

It's his new book. _Him. Him. Him._

She hadn't realized thinking about him, and seeing proof of his existence, would be two entirely different things.

Her scar hurts. Her heart hurts. Her head hurts.

But she doesn't move. "Actually, I'd like to buy a book."

"Oh?" the man says, and she's certain there's sarcasm there. What a stupid question, considering.

"The, the one by Richard Castle, please." Her voice breaks, and she thinks maybe this is what he feels like.

Maybe he is hurting like this too.

* * *

><p>She is uncomfortable on her last morning in the tiny town, and she wrings her hands a lot. Her fingernails are stubs.<p>

Kate goes to the diner, but she doesn't order food. She has coffee, but it's for show.

She doesn't think she could keep anything down right now.

"Sweetie, who are you running from?"

The waitress is there again, and slides into the booth like they're just old friends having a conversation. Kate clears her throat, and thinks about not answering the question. But she does, because no, no that's not what she's doing.

"I'm not_ running,_" she says vehemently, not at all caring if she sounds rude.

The woman rolls her eyes. "Fine, then. I just hadn't thought you were the type to skip merrily from somebody. My mistake."

This lady reminds her of Castle's mother. Her mouth goes slack with the thought.

"Whoever it is, you must love them very much."

She cannot help wincing openly, scrunching her eyes shut.

_She is not._

"Honey, look at me," the woman says, and finally, she looks. A wistful expression is planted on her features.

"I know a lot of love, of unrequited, undefined, you name it. But love doesn't end just because you don't see him. Of that I can promise you."

Kate is momentarily shell shocked. Her mouth is dry, her eyes water.

She cannot speak. And no one can make her feel like this, normally. Except Castle, and he's far from normal.

The waitress gets up suddenly, moving to assist a man who's just walked in.

Kate stands, and leaves.

Maybe this is the first step in recovery.

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><p><strong><em>AN- Thoughts? This is also my first Castle piece, so I'm a little weary. Did I get the voice of Kate right?_**


End file.
